File This One Under "Too Cute!"

My sweet Sabrina (age 6, but 7 next month!) has been boy crazy since birth. Her first love was Parker, a cutie-patootie on her big brother's soccer team:

Sadly, Sabrina soon realized that the age difference was just too much to overcome (that 2 years is huge!) and that Parker was her brother's friend, not hers.

All through kindergarten Sabrina was smitten with a boy named Davis (I don't have a picture, but trust me - he was cuter than bug's ears!). Every day she wanted to wear an orange shirt because she heard Davis say once that orange was his favorite color. She was just beside herself whenever the teacher lined them up alphabetically since they both have last names that start with C. And when she found out we were moving, she wrote him a long good-bye letter in a way that only a five year old can (i.e. lots of hearts and flowers) and included our forwarding address. For weeks after we got to Massachusetts she would ask me, "Did Davis send me anything?" Oh sweetie, I'm sorry. Nothing today.

After a while she forced herself into finding a new object of affection.

And his name is Mark.

But first, I guess she had to "cleanse" herself of her old flame (I found this in the art supplies closet).

It says: "People I Love (signified by a heart) Davis I liked but now I moved on"

Notice all the skulls and crossbones, along with the heart? I think that sums up her feelings perfectly.

Since Christmas, Sabrina's social life at school has revolved around Mark. I get to hear all about what Mark had for lunch (he really likes goldfish crackers), who he played with on the playground (mostly other boys, because, according to Sabrina, Mark still thinks girls are kind of icky), and how often he gets in trouble (alot).

The few times I have been to Sabrina's class to volunteer for this or that, I've kept my eye on this Mark boy to see if he is indeed worthy of my little girl's heart. Sadly, he seems pretty oblivious to her existence.

It seems Sabrina is determined to get her heart broken at least a dozen times before she turns 16. But I can't help admiring how she keeps picking herself up, deciding on what she wants, and then going for it with all her heart.

It says, "I think we are going to be best friends."

You GO, girl.

Blooming Whether I Want To or Not

The last few weeks have forced me to come to terms that I am not on an extended vacation here in New England - I actually live here now. I have had to put down some tentative roots. And, incredibly, it has been only slightly painful. Although some of my Texan friends and family might see this as an act of treason, I am actually kind of, just a little bit, excited about the whole thing.

It all started when I took the kids to the dentist. This forced me to call our old dentist in New Braunfels to get the records transferred. Then when the patient information forms came in the mail for me to fill out, I actually did it. (I guess it would help to know that about five months ago I called a pediatrician's office here it town to get the kids established somewhere, but when the paperwork came in the mail, I didn't even open the envelope. It went straight to the trash. Just thinking of committing to a new pediatrician when we have used the same one since the birth of our oldest just seemed so, I don't know, scary. It made this move seem so REAL. And I just wasn't ready for that little dose of reality so close to Christmas and all.) So, I filled out the dentist's paperwork (baby steps, guys). Then I actually kept the dentist appointment AND showed up on time (bigger baby steps!).



I have got to say - the dentist was AWESOME and he made me feel very welcome. He actually lived in the Dallas area for a few short years, so I felt we had a little connection going on. But then he gave me a stern talk about not having a pediatrician lined up - something about how a strong dose of Motrin won't fix everything - and he gave me a short list of some good docs. I tucked that list in my purse thinking "Please, I just can't handle another medical history form right now - my kids NEVER get sick anyway!"



Yeah. Well. Two days later I was frantically digging through my purse saying "Please, don't tell me I threw that list of doctors away! Both kids have 104.1 fevers AFTER having Motrin!"



So, yes. We now also have a pediatrician.



Then I got the same crud as the kids.



Whoo-hoo! A new doctor for Mom too!

THEN. Soccer season started. Last night both kids had soccer practice (of course almost at the same time and on fields a mile apart from each other). But that is okay because I think I made a friend.


Since we moved here, my best friend has been the school bus driver, Christine. I see her every school day and she always greets me with a smile and a sincere "Have a great day!". In the afternoons she is still smiling and I believe her when she says "See ya tomorrow!" Christine has seen me with no makeup and clothes that don't match and still, I have never seen any judgement in her eyes (well, except for that morning when the kids were all bundled up in the scarf, hat, and heavy coat ensemble and it was 41 degrees - way too warm for all that!). I can't tell you how many days Christine's happy face has made my day.



And now, there is a boy on Dalton's soccer team that he knows from school and his mom seems totally neat and funny and nice. And her husband is all nice and just chatted away with my hubby. These people have great friend potential. I just feel it. AND - get this - Christine the bus driver is really good friends with this family too! How cool is that? I almost feel like I have a friend network starting up. I actually now know somebody that knows somebody else that I know.


And to top it all off, there are these things growing all around my house and in the garden and I just know they are all going to bloom into something very pretty.

"V" is for...

So last night the kids were watching a few minutes of TV before bed. Apparently Nick at Night was airing that old episode of Home Improvement where Tim the Tool Man contemplates getting a snip-snip down there. As I turned off the TV Dalton (age 8) asked me, ever so innocently, "Mom, what's a vasectomy?"

"Well.

You see.

Um.

It's an operation a man gets."

This, of course, led to the dreaded, "But why?"

"Well.

You see.

Um.

So that he can't have babies.

Nowlet'sgettobed'causeitisreallylateandyouhavetogetupearlyforschool."

"Mooooommmm! Quit joking around! Men can't have babies! Why do they get the vasectomy operation thingy?"

"You know, I'm probably not explaining it very well. Go ask your Dad."

So Dalton trotted off to the dining room to ask his poor unsuspecting father about the meaning of vasectomy. I hung back just outside the dining room so that I could eavesdrop on the man-to-man discussion.

"Dad, what's a vasectomy?"

"It's an operation a man gets so that he can't have any more babies with his wife."

"Oh - really? That's what Mom said too. But I still don't get it."

"Go to bed."

"OK."

So I guess we are at the precipice of that next stage of parenting - explaining the birds and the bees. How fun.

I remember when my mother sat me down at age 10 with a book, full of illustrations, that explained where babies come from. I didn't get it. In fact, I think I was almost 20 before all the pieces came together, so to speak.

So, readers, I am openly asking (begging) for some advise here. When did you learn about babies? When did you tell your kids? And what did you tell them?

Sunshine On My Shoulders...

Apparently my children have trust issues.

When Sabrina (6) was diagnosed with allergies and we decided to go the allergy shot route, I told her not to worry, that the shots would not hurt. Much. After all, her brother had been getting the same shots for a year and he never even flinched. But I guess Sabrina has a much lower pain tolerance.

And when we were talking about all the cool things that we could do in the snow, I said that I could not wait to build a snow fort with them. And I even bought myself a pair of good gloves (they're pink and fluffy!). But guys, that snow is awfully cold. And somehow I never lasted outside long enough to build anything more than a wimpy snowball.

And on our recent excursion to New York City, I assured them that the city would be fun. No doubt they had a Willy Wonka type of fun in mind, but instead got a whole bunch of "My God, we are in a Prada store - DON"T TOUCH ANYTHING!!"

So yesterday when I told the kids that it was warm enough to go outside and play, they both kinda rolled their eyes and then went back to playing on Club Penguin. An hour later I insisted they get changed out of pjs -right this minute- and I promised a trip to the park.

"But it's cold outside (insert best six year old whine here)."

No it's not - it's warm! Trust me!

Again with the eye rolling.

"Just for a little bit, then we will go to Target and get a pretzel."

THAT finally got them moving.

And guess what? After about five minutes, both kids were actually sweating and had to take off the little jackets they insisted on wearing.

Sunshine is delicious!

We Are Family...

Wow.

You know, I was feeling a little anxiety about my sister visiting (couldn't tell, could ya?). Because somehow I didn't manage to turn into a super cool, super rich fashion model in time for her visit, and I thought that maybe I would come off as such a raging dork that I would never see my sister again. You know how fickle those college girls can be.

But of course, everything went great. Even better than great. But do you remember that movie Twins from the late 80's? It has Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito as twins separated at birth. Well, when I saw her at the baggage claim area at the airport, this is the movie that immediately came to mind.

Do you see what I mean? The girl is TALL and THIN and full of youthful beauty. And, well, let's just say that I am not. But over the course of her visit, we found that we have more in common than differences. We both do a weird little hand dance thing when we listen to music. We both love to read. We both eat our pizza with ranch dressing (lots of it!). We have an eerily similar smart-ass sense of humor. We both face the daily struggle of taming the curl in our hair (those straight locks you see in the picture above is the result of a really good relationship with my straightening iron). But most importantly, we love each other!


The week was full of long talks and lots of laughs. The first night Sam was here we went to a restaurant that I had been dying to try because of it's name (say it out loud and you will see what I mean).

We took a spur of the moment trip to New York City (because I am all about impressing her like that) and shopped and ate and just had a blast.

Don't we look like we are having fun?

Even though the trip ended with Sam missing her flight back home (our damn GPS took us to a fishing pier in Boston instead of the airport), it was a really great visit. I can't imagine my life without my baby sis being a huge part of it.

Yay us!