Girlie

We girls love shoes and bags. It's who we are......

Things I love (and a few unpaid product endorsements)...

I got the idea for this post from a few friends, starting with Boog here. It's a little braggy, so if you're not in the mood for my gushing, turn back now. Just know I'd rather gush about my kids here, because I feel more comfortable than doing it to your face. Except, I'll still probably do it to your face. Somebody stop me. I can't help myself. I've become that mom.

I love the sun. I haven't seen it in a while, and I'm so glad it's back. It floods the kitchen in an obnoxious blinding way in the afternoon this time of year, but I managed to get this shot of Libby against the kitchen cabinet before it set the other day. I plan on trying for more shots like this, but getting both girls to hold still is about as easy as herding cats, or combing the back of Libby's hair.

I'm obsessed lately. White cake with white frosting. Y-U-M.

This next one is a life saver! Peyton wants to sit on the potty and have my undivided attention for about 30 minutes at a time. That's a lot of time on the potty, considering up until now she doesn't produce.....well, much. My friend Anna posted this seat with a built in training seat on her blog, and I HAD to have it. Now, Peyton can sit for as long as she likes and I'm confident she won't fall in if I'm not there. And (insert drum roll) GUESS WHO POOPED ON THE POTTY TODAY! Well, yeah Shane, but guess who else! Peyton! Woot woot! Happy birthday to ME! If you need to buy a baby gift for someone....I'm telling you. Bemis Next Step. Home Depot $29.99.
Libby is starting to write her name. The spelling isn't always perfect, but who cares. Yesterday a little boy at a birthday party asked her name and she said, "Libby."

"What is it?"

"Libby."

"Huh?"

"Libby. L-I-B-B-Y!"

I acted all casual, but the teacher in me teared up a little.

I think the fact that it's written on toilet paper with a marker only adds to its charm.

Another of my not-so-new obsessions are flash mobs. Seemingly random gatherings of people dancing and singing for the sole purpose of making me happy. I would think that it's a lot of prep on my behalf, but I'm glad they go to the trouble. You can search flash mobs on you tube and watch all day long, or you can save some time and watch this one. It's my favorite.

Last, but not least is the Strider Bike. Oh little Strider, we love you. We got this for Libby when she was a year and a half. We put it together, set her on it and let go. She tipped over, cried and wanted nothing to do with it for a long time. Leave it to us.

Still, it's the sole reason she has gone from this, to this, to this in the course of one month with very little instruction from us. We can ride bikes together now, and we are loving it.

She doesn't need it anymore, and look who's taken it over....

Strider Sports, call me. I will plug you to the masses with nothing in return except lots and lots of money.

Ridin' the Rails

Libby has talked about riding the train since we rode The Polar Express at Christmas. We've wanted to find a time that she and Shane could ride Amtrak to Portland, and this week it finally worked out. We needed to go to Portland anyway, so Peyton and I dropped Shane and Libby at the train station and then drove up to meet them.

Waiting for the train...

Here it comes!

No security. No baggage check. A pretty easy way to travel, really. I'd recommend it over the city bus any day of the week.

Ready!

All aboard!

Departure. Bye Sister!

Arrival...

The happiest riders of the day...

Want to know how I know she loved it? She did this for the next three hours...

We are SO green it's not even funny....

Okay, it is funny. Because we make an effort to be green, but certainly we could be greener. I'm happy to say though, we minimized our footprint today. Not exactly because it was Earth Day. More so, because today happened to be Earth Day, and I had a good idea. I've been wanting to ride my bike on the river trail so badly, but we have a two mile stretch of very busy road between us and the trail. I did it once, and am not in a hurry to do it again. Solution: Take the bus to the trail and go have our fun. That's exactly what we did.

Shane looked really skeptical as we sat and waited for the bus. Then waited and waited some more. Oops. Maybe I read the schedule wrong. I prefer to think the driver was late. Shane assured me the bus is never late. But then he also asked me, "How do you know how to ride the bus, anyway?" So, what does he know?

My big strong man handled getting the bikes on and off of the bus. Us girls were super impressed.

The girls loved riding the bus. We sat right behind the driver who drove about 75 mph between stops. The stops are roughly a quarter of a mile apart. Libby exclaimed, "Mom, this bus drives CRAZY!" I'm sure I saw the driver smile.

We caught the river trail and headed for our favorite park.

Funniest moment of the day:

This is the three-level play structure. In this picture I'm standing on the second level.

Here's what it looks like from underneath:

Right when we got there, the girls went straight to climbing up the structure. I chased after them mostly to prevent anyone falling off of the many openings on the second level, or (God forbid) the third level. Another mom was on the second level doing the same with her toddler son, while talking on her cell phone. I overheard her say, "What IS that?" as she reached for her hair and discovered it was wet. My eyes climbed one level to a little boy standing directly above her unsure what to do about the fact that he'd just peed himself. Wearing flip flops. If you have a toddler you know that the flip flops are key to this story. They catch no pee. There are no socks to absorb. It all runs down. I hear the cell-phone-talking mom say, "OMG, I think I just got peed on."

I asked the little pee-er if he knew where his mom was, and gingerly helped him off of the structure to find her. Upon delivery I said, "I think he's had an accident." I wanted to say, "Your kid, totally peed on that lady over there." But, I thought it wouldn't change the outcome, so I didn't. It was one of those moments where you're just so glad it wasn't you.

I pretended to take a picture of Peyton just so I could get a shot of this kid who'd parked his shirtless self in the bushes to eat a Happy Meal like a little savage. Random, but funny. Peyton needs a haircut, I know.

We left the playground and rode to happy hour at McMenamins.

Heading for home:

Coming.

Going.

We caught the bus at the end of the river trail and rode it closer to home.

I didn't drive my car once today. Green, huh?

Meet Fuzzy

This is the face of a very happy child. A child who's been wanting a pet that Daddy promised a long time ago. A pet that Libby says is "very cute".

Meet Fuzzy. He's, well, not exactly fuzzy. But, I'm betting you can guess who named him.

Prior to putting him in his new tank Shane had to acclimate Fuzzy to his new home. He put conditioner in the water. He tested, and retested the water's temperature. And then he gave a heart warming speech that I'd like to title, "Libby, Fuzzy is Going to Die." It went a little something like this:

(Ahem)

"Libby, Fuzzy is going to die. We'll take good care of him. We'll feed him, clean his (her) tank and love him, but all things die eventually. This'll be a good lesson for you."

Wow. Really touching, darlin'. I'm thinking it sounded a lot like the speech Fuzzy might get on the day we flush him. I need a tissue.

Here, Libby helps Daddy put him into his tank.

Just after I took this picture Libby asked, "Mom, when's he gonna die?"

I answered, "Probably not today, honey."

She was totally into him......for about 20 minutes. Now she's watching Maya and Miguel. I don't know what I was expecting, really. It's not like she can take him for a walk. Though, Peyton just woke from her nap and she has already tried to take him for a walk. And though she doesn't say much, she did look at him and say, "Eat. Fish." I guess it's good that Shane gave that speech.

Update:

Libby finished watching Maya and Miguel and turned off the t.v. She came over to see what I was doing, and I said, "Go see how Fuzzy's doing." She walked over, looked at him and said, "He died, Mom."

For the record, Fuzzy's fine. Now, as for Libby's newly warped view of life and death.... well, we'll keep you posted.

Two Wheelin'

Libby rode her bike today for the first time. We were so excited, but the session was cut short when she started crying for reasons still unknown. She said she'll ride again tomorrow.... Turn down your volume. I get really screechy at the end.

Girl's got some looks of her own....

The Many Faces of Peyton

I've recently had a conversation with other moms of little ones about blogging (or generally showing) our "best selves" versus keeping it real. I try to find a good balance of showing the fun I really have with my kids (and I do), while being honest about the challenges we come up against. In the spirit of keeping it real I'll tell you, today is a challenge. Specifically a 2 ft. 8 in. challenge weighing approximately 24 pounds. Her name is Peyton. And not just today. Two days ago I called my sister with a desperate plea of "Please, please, Skype with us, because I think my kids would love it, and maybe it will distract Peyton long enough to stop crying about whatever it is she's crying about." She wasn't home.

Peyton is stubborn, sweet, funny, challenging, easy going, passionate, fiery, playful, larger than life and quiet as a mouse. Did I mention stubborn? She's me. Many who knew me as a child smirk and think I deserve her.

She can take a swing at me one minute, and in the next minute wants to hug like we haven't seen each other in years.

She wants to do things all by herself, but can't, and doesn't have the words to express her frustration. Instead, she throws herself on the floor, pulls out a chunk of her hair and eats it. Yes, you read that right. My child pulls out her hair in frustration. Literally. And then she eats it. You'd think the sensation alone would be a deterrent, but I guess not.

She lives in the shadow of an older sister she adores. Yet, her sister is better and faster at all the things they do together, right now. Believe me, I get this. Did I mention that my sister was Valedictorian? I had a solid B average. My sister plays tennis and golf. I can throw a racquet farther than McEnroe.

And to add to her charm, she has just discovered that the walls of her crib can no longer contain her.

Child

Sister

Explorer

Mischief Maker

Nurturer

Hider

Ham

Thrill Seeker

Dancer