Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Drafting

Siblings love each other.  They also hate each other.  It's science, so you just kind of have to accept it.  There is no one more supportive, protective and invested in you during your childhood as your sibling.  They don't want to see anyone hurt you, best you or deter you. ... unless, of course, it's them.  Yesterday when I got home, I pulled in the driveway just as the rest of the clan was coming out on their bikes.  Disney Princess training wheels, princess helmets. ... even a handlebar seat for their princess dolls.  Before I could even take my tie off they where charging up the street as fast as their little knees could pump, Rosaline waddling as fast as she could behind.  As we made our way around the first corner something else started to happen.  You see biking is fun. ... but it's also a sport, and these girls started to channel their inner "non" doping Tour de France competitors. ... which I believe ones in the back of the pack.  There's a part of you, as a parent, who wants to scold them for trying to dominate their sister, to tell them it's all fun and not about competition.  But then you see Arianna execute a perfect draft and sling shot maneuver to pass her sister on the outside, then whip around a tether ball set in someones driveway for the lead, head low and elbows in to avoid the drag resistance. ... well. ... you keep your mouth shut and you wipe that tear from your eye before anyone sees it.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Me and My Multiple Personalities

Gina had her first out of town festival of the weekend so I got to spend the weekend with my three favorite people.  Me, Myself and I.  No, I was not alone, but I might as well have been.  I think one of the amazing things about parenthood is watching these personalities blossom (although I can also argue that they've been pretty much exactly the same from their moment of birth - Arianna screaming, Genevieve sleeping, Rosaline patiently waiting for further instructions).  The other amazing thing is watching how much like you they start to become.  It's almost like you're just hanging out with your own multiple personalities. ... although not as dramatic as Identity.  Consumed by rules, then willing to break them when they're sure they won't be caught.  True cinematic connoisseurs.  Great arguers for having cookies at breakfast.  Always curious about what tomorrow might hold.  Cautious in the aftermath of recklessness.  Confident, but insecure for show.  Independent, but never wanting to be alone. Sneaky. ... or at least under the belief that they are.  Hungry; for food, knowledge, love, respect, admiration.  Protective of each other in the way that a bomb is protective; used on the enemy it's a great tool, kick it to many times in the warehouse and you're going to have a problem yourself.  Determined.  Resilient.  Hopeful.  Sometimes I feel I can just sit and watch them for hours.  Listen to their jabberwaky conversations with ease.  Cuddle with them all in a dog pile on the couch until the sun cycles back over to the east.  Of course there's bath time. ... god knows if Mama comes home and they smell like the feet of a dairy cow I'll be the one that pays.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Thursday, February 21, 2013

A Whisper in the Dark

The other night I made my rounds to tuck everyone in after locking up.  Cozied the twins up with their comforters on this unusually cold California night.  Karma took her place and I closed the door but a crack and moved in to Rosaline's room.  The girls get a fair amount of night time light from the street, but Rosaline's room sits in an area that's some how void of natural light.  You walk into her room past sundown and it's extremely dark.  So I crept over to her crib and bent over, pausing a little while to allow my eyes to better adjust before I blindly started fumbling over her and her blankets.  I started to make out the outline of her body when suddenly, I felt a soft push of air o my right ear.  It's one of those moments where the hair stands up on your neck because you weren't expecting what ever this might be.  I slowly cocked my head to the right to investigate and found myself half an inch and face to face with Rosaline, a slight smile behind her pacifier.  She had been awake and standing the entire time I was in the room, but like a lion in the dark had remained still and silent allowing my unadjusted eyes to completely miss her form.  I'll admit it almost gave me a mini heart attack for a brief moment.  My mind had been deceived into expecting the baby asleep and my eyes went with that suggesting, confirming that I saw her.  So suddenly there's this other face right next to mine. ... I imagined one of those Paranormal movies I refuse to see.  Oh kids. .... they certainly keep things exciting.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Piggies are Too Big for this Blanket

The alternative post was originally going to be I Scream and tell you all about Rosaline's melt down at the Chic-fil-a when Gina took her ice cream cone away briefly to wipe her face.  Bordered on comical.  Ok, securely resided in comical.  Anyway, that was trumped around 2:30 this morning when we were awoken by a strange sound (in a house with two toddles, a baby, a dog, two cats and a crazy neighbor "strange" is a broad term).  We both sat up and could tell by the hall light that Genevieve was sleeping, face down, in our doorway.  There's that brief moment when the parenting mindset hasn't woken up and joined you yet, where you briefly digest just letting her stay put.  Very brief moment.  Ok. ... maybe not as brief as it should have been.  Anyway, Gina got up to put her back to bed and she was mumbling that her feet were stuck in her jammies.  Well, she was wearing footie pajamas (because there's only a brief moment in one's life when they can pull this look off, so might as well take advantage of it) and, it seems that her feet are now too big and the footie was pinching her toes.  She's three by the way.  These were a size 5.  And the feet were too small. ... just sayin'.  I guess it's pants that stop at the ankle for her from this point on.  That and we'll be shopping for heels in West Hollywood.  Just, sayin', I know a place.

Monday, February 11, 2013

A Shepherd Waching Over her Flock

Sorry once again that it's been a while.  Gina's been on me to blog, a lot lately. ... which is weird because she lives in the house so you'd think she was in the "know" as far as what goes on around her.  Oh well, guess it's up to me to keep her posted.  I was looking for inspiration to blog last week and found it on Wednesday when Rosaline projectile vomited 10 minutes into our 40 minute car ride home. ... that was awesome, making the girls stand in a gas station parking lot in their jammies (get home on Wednesdays a little after bed time) in the cold while I try and clean up the explosion with all of 4 wipies left in the case.  But I got a little busy and that story is old news.  I got inspiration, albeit a little less colorful. ... and not as chunky, last night as I closed up shop for the night.  I locked the downstairs doors, set the alarm, got ready for bed myself and then went to check on the girls.  As I walked across the upstairs living room I saw a sight that has become warningly familiar these past few weeks: Karma, waiting patiently for the girls door to open.  As I gently turned the knob, she softly pushed through the opening and took her place at the side of the girls beds.  Every night she chooses a different bed, but it's always length-wise between the bed and the door.  She doesn't stay there all night, she migrates from place to place, but this is how she starts out the night; watching over her pups.  She's a shepherd by breed (Australian) and she shows it in her play, rounding up dogs and children in to tight circles and then pushing them in the direction she wants them to go.  But her job isn't done at that.  There's also the night watch.  I take comfort in knowing that we have an extra pair of eyes, and extra pair of ears and a great, big, extra heart around to make sure our children are always looked after, no matter what hour of the day or night.

Friday, February 8, 2013