It's my carpet and I'll cry if I want to.

While R and I dress the Salad into their PJs for the night, I usually flip on "Max and Ruby" and give them a small straw cup of milk and a bedtime snack. Wednesday night was a bit different, 'cause R was late so I was doing bedtime alone. I turned on the TV, gave them their milk, changed them into their jammies, and ran upstairs to get their beds ready. When I came back down, I flopped myself down to snuggle with S, who was laying on the couch. I jumped up when I felt the milk soak through my jeans. "S! You should have told me so I could clean this!" and ran to get a kitchen towel. I gathered myself on the way down the steps, thinking to myself, there was a proverb just for moments like this, "No sense crying over spilled milk."

I cleaned up the milk and went to change my pants. When I came back into the room, I noticed milk pouring from A's tipped over cup, down the side of the lego container she was using as a coffee table. "A, stand your milk up!" and ran to get a kitchen towel. I gathered myself on the way down the steps, thinking to myself, there was a proverb just for moments like this, "No sense crying over spilled milk."

When I got there, I noticed a trail of milk, leading from the seat M had had on the floor to the seat he had taken on the couch. Sometimes if I screw the lids on the cups too tightly, the pressure makes milk shoot from the straw. And that's exactly what had happened last night. Of course. "M, give me your cup! It's leaking!" I ran to the kitchen to unscrew the lid over the sink and rinse it off. I gathered myself on the way down the steps, thinking to myself, there was a proverb just for moments like this, "No sense crying over spilled milk."

Wait a minute . . . didn't I just write that?! . . . TWICE?!

As I was down on my knees for the third time in 8 minutes, it dawned on me this proverb was for the spillers, not the spiller-cleaner-uppers. For the spillers, it means, "Don't cry, mommy's gonna clean that up and get you more milk." For the spiller-cleaner-uppers, it means, "Don't waste your tears now, they're just gonna spill it again in 3.7 seconds. Cry then." I mean, I get it, they're kids, they're gonna spill milk, mash play-doh into the carpet, get lollipops on their brand new Gap shirts.

But really, this was getting ridiculous . . .

Party like a Preschooler

The Salad hosted their first Halloween party last week. The previous 2 days were filled with party prep. I'm kinda loving this age, 3 almost 4. They want to be around me. They want to please me. They want to help me. So when I asked them to Windex the front door, put away their train set for the day and Swiffer the kitchen floor, I had an army of eager helpers. Not that I'm taking advantage or anything.

We started the festivities with a dramatic Halloween book reading, while 12 preschoolers munched on freshly roasted pumpkin seeds, cranberries, candy corn and apple puffs. We did an easy spider craft, before heading downstairs for the piece de resistance. A haunted house made from huge boxes that the Salad and I had driven to the Raymour and Flanigan distribution center in New Jersey on Tuesday for. A long way for boxes? Maybe. A short trip for hours of enjoyment? Definitely! I spent an hour today popping out from behind the walls of our haunted house, scaring the bejesus out of my Salad. I laughed so hard that I almost peed myself. M laughed so hard that he did pee himself. Good times.

We munched on pumpkin shaped peanut butter sandwiches for lunch. And in a surprising twist, the apples turned out to be the favorite part of the party. I scooped out huge honeyscrisp apples with a melon baller and offered chocolate, caramel and pumpkin spice flavored Cool Whip for dipping. I've said it before and I'll say it again - it's all in the presentation. Offer bite sized morsels, speared with tooth picks and a variety of dips, my kids will eat almost anything.
We had a bean bag toss and painted some pumpkins, before ending the day passing out treat bags to our friends on their way out. While we were waving good bye to our playgroup friends, M spotted our neighborhood friends, driving by the house. M flagged down their nanny and before I could stop him, he shouted a hearty invite to "Come up and play later!" So after an hour's rest, we had more guests to play in our haunted house and drink apple cider with.
I let the Salad stay up a tiny bit later than usual, just because I was enjoying their cute smiles and animated stories. When I asked her what her favorite part of the day was, S said "Every part was my favorite!" For once, the day seemed too short.

The Rs have it. Or not . . .

"Let's wock and woll!" M shouted as we left the house for Giggle Gang. I should look into that exchange of "w" for "r", but to be perfectly honest, I'm not going to just yet. I mean, weally, how adowable is it?




"Hey Mommy! Look at my new wed wollewskates! I'm weally good, wight Mommy? Wight!?!"

Soccer Ball!

I've mentioned before that I have a pretty cool husband. Once he actually said when I wanted to put a bid on a rundown house that was 275 years old, "Let's do it! Happy wife, happy life!" Told you. He's pretty cool. And so when I've said the following things to him, he's always been agreeable.

"Hey, you snore a lot. I think you should get this crazy painful surgery."

"Joanna's coming over tonight and we're giving each other facials, Biore strips included. Wanna join us?"

"The other playgroup moms and I wanted to start the kids playing a semi-organized sport, without any pressure, though, you know? I told them you played soccer all your life and you'd probably be thrilled to try to control 12 kids, 4 and under, teaching them rules of a game that I don't even really understand. I was right, wasn't I? You're excited by this, no?"

And so Saturday mornings in October are devoted to soccer "practice." Thanks, my love, you've made your wife happy. I hope I've made your life happy.

Our team, guarding the goal!

God is where?!

There are certain days we go to the cemetery and leave flowers or rocks or buttons or holiday ornaments at Mom-Mom's headstone. The Salad was only 6 months old when she left us so suddenly and they have never questioned why we go to a rock to "visit" her.

We have never really taught them about Heaven, per say. And while we thank Him everyday for all the great things that day brought us, our talks of God are very simple. God is good. God wants us to be good. God made all things. There are people that we love with God.

So I stumbled a bit during the conversation we had as we passed the cemetery this morning.

M: "Hi Mom-Mom!"

A & S: "Hi Mom-Mom!"

M: "Mommy, is Mom-Mom in the ground?"

Me: "Mom-Mom is with God, buddy."

M: "Is God in the ground?"

Me: "God is everywhere. He's in the ground and the trees and the sky and in us."

M: "How does he get up in the sky?"

Now I'm getting nervous . . . I have no idea what to say . . . I ponder calling R and having him talk . . . luckily the girls take over for me.

A: "Wait mommy, wait. God is in us?"

Oh gosh, now I've really confused them . . .

Me: "Sure, he's, umm, in our hearts."

Silence while they digest this farfetched story.

A: "Well, I don't feel God in my heart."

S: "Me neither. But sometimes, I feel him in my belly."

Ahhhh! The damage has been done, I fear.

Downward Facing Preschoolers

alternately titled:
Morning of free entertainment.

alternately titled:
Why is her bottom shoved into my head?

alternately titled:
Yoga class!

By the Sea, By the Sea, By the beautiful Sea

We spent the first week of September on vacation down the shore. Rather than recount every single day, I'll do lists of highlights.

Things there were a lot of:
Waves ridden.
Funnel Cake eaten.
Scrabble games played.
Sea shells found that were "PERFECT!" according to S.
Sand Angels made.
Kites flown.

Salads' Favorite things about vacation:
A - "My new pink flippies (flip flops)."
M - "Seeing 2 trains on the way home."
S - "The Caterpillar Roller Coaster and sleeping in the same bed as her brother and sister."

My Favorite Salad Moment (as we wished on a star):
A - "Mommy, why do the stars in the sky not have any points?"
M - "Thank you, wishing star."
S - "I wish for a lot of french fries."

Firsts:
A got her first professional manicure (also her first burn from the drying bulb).
M won me a blue duck playing a water gun game. "It's for you, Mommy." he said as my heart melted.
S got 2 holes in 1 playing miniature golf.