Spending Time

This is me as a kid.

Replace the cocker spaniel puppies with twin girls and this is me as a mom. They are infinitely cute and huggable. They are at a delightful age too. One in which you can smother them with kisses and they giggle and kiss you back and say things like, "i luv uuuu mommie."

In my professional life, I get to work with a lot of disgruntled teenagers (and quite a few disgruntled adults), so I'm well aware that one day the girls will be like so totally cool that like they can't exactly say "I love you mom" in front of their totally awesome friends because like that's not cool, you know.

And I know that time will pass by quickly. So you just make the most of it.

At the grocery store the other day I bought some play dough for the girls. Play dough is the most cost effective toy ever. It costs maybe $2 dollars and its an endless source of fun and creativity.

Of course the girls immediately wanted to make the giant play dough ball of mixed colors. I began to say, "don't mix the colors!" and I caught myself. "Don't mix the colors"? Why not? It costs two dollars. Play dough is not a special commodity in any economy, even ours. So instead I took out fun kitchen utensils and let them mash it through garlic presses and roll it with the rolling pin and tried to not think about how it was now all mixed together and...completely ruined.

I wonder what our time would be like if I didn't work, if I was home with them all day. I miss them when I'm working and admittedly I sometimes let them stay up past their bedtime because I'm not ready to say goodnight.

Yet, the time we do spend together is really full. Maybe it wouldn't be that way if I was home all the time. Maybe taking care of them would become work, a chore that had to be done. Being in toddler-land I'd soon forget the disgruntled teenagers I once worked with and everything would be Dora, and Blues Clues, and the Wiggles. Insanity would surely follow that lineup.

Maybe we have a good balance right now. They can be independent and play with new friends and learn new things, then come home to kisses and hugs and snuggles. And I can be reminded that it will all change too fast and appreciate the time we have.

Being sick is no fun

Evelyn had the worst weekend last week. It all began when she dropped the lid of our heavy furniture trunk onto her index finger. The nurse at the hospital told us it was a toddler rite of passage, but it was nevertheless frightening. Her little finger looked deformed and immediately began to swell. Oh and she cried like I've never heard her cry before.

We met Andre at the Children's Hospital where they x-rayed her and applied a tiny splint. Turned out not to be broken, just bruised and we still had time to make it to the circus. Yes, I know normal people would have gone home after that.

To be fair, the tickets were rather expensive and bought months and months in advance so that the girls could get really good seats. And they were good seats. If the tightrope walker had fallen we would have been hurt by the fall, they were that good. Plus, leaving the hospital, she seemed in good spirits.

She loved the opening show. Rowan was so excited she was dancing in Andre's lap. Never have you seen two more wide-eyed circus goers. It is the way the circus is suppose to be watched: full of wonder and awe.

You lose that sense of wonder as you get older. I couldn't help comparing it to Cirque du Sole and prior circus shows. Was this as good? The awesome eventually becomes expected.

About half way through Evelyn fell asleep in my arms. She even slept through people being shot out of a cannon. However, she had missed her afternoon nap, plus she had been given a pain reliever for her injured finger. She awoke long enough to see the tigers, the elephants, and to buy a plastic circus horse, then she feel asleep again.

As we left she began to complain about her belly hurting. Sometime in the night she had a fever that was pushing 104 and started to vomit. We spent most of the night on the phone to the nurse and trying to make her as comfortable as possible until we could get her in to the pediatrician in the morning.

Finally, after a full week--three doctor visits, two shots, and an antibiotic prescription later, she's back to her old self. Even her finger is healed. We took the girls out for hamburgers, ice cream, and playground fun. She was having such a great time, its hard to believe she was so sick.

Now, I try not to be an overly protective parent. A "helicopter parent" as I've heard them called, who hover over their children guarding their every move. I want them to grow and experience and try new things without fear. Without my fears at least.

And I don't want to be dramatic either. A smashed finger and an illness that can be cured in a week are not big deals in the grand scheme of things. Yet tonight, watching my husband and my two daughters playing together I was overcome with the feeling that these three people are my life and really how grateful I am to be watching them play in the park tonight.